Perfection
by x-menobsessed26
Summary: Five friends. Five mutants. All imperfect. This is how they found their perfection.
1. Chapter 1

Five friends.

Five mutants.

Two women; three men.

All imperfect.

The measure of their imperfection is in the eye of the critic. It also stems from who they are away from the others, but not to the point of caring about their personal attributes, like personality.

Jean Grey looked to all the world to be one of the best role models for society. Her mutation is anything but simple, but it is hidden from the naked eye of the surface searching appraisers. Her bright red hair is stunning, but not repulsive and evokes a sense of exoticism among those who see her. She had earned enough intellectual credit to but the title of doctor in front of her name and always has the highest mark she could achieve short of a working suicide. She comes from a rich, well established family and looks to have a fantastic legacy.

What they don't know is how much she hates herself. It is a common theme among the five students, but each is special in their own way. She hates the red hair, the green eyes, the pale skin, however she considers her insecurity of her looks to be one of the least of her problems. She hones extreme levels of telepathy and telekinesis. Each on its own make a deadly combination, but together is nearly cosmic.

Her past is once again a complicated one. Her family has an impressive reputation and fortune, but from her birth she was never meant to be a part of it. An unwanted child. Her family still accepted her, loving their daughter, but society told them not to. She was different. It was a secret from all but a few exactly how different she was, particularly after an ugly accident provoking her telepathy in the coming years.

When she suddenly disappeared from the social scene at the age of eleven, the town was curious, but her parents told everyone she had been sent to a boarding school in England, which no one could ever find any information for. An obvious lie. The truth would have been even more condemning for the little girl had it come out. Jean Grey was housed at a fancy mental institution across the country, far away from where the media could ruin them.

After two years, and some investigation on his part, Charles Xavier discovered the location of Jean. Jean was the daughter of an associate of his, and he'd noticed some strange mental readings from her. Wanting to know what had happened to the intriguing girl, he tracked her down and offered to bring her to his Institute. He offered help for control.

Her parents heard cure.

They were wrong.

They weren't the only parents who were wrong. Hell, they were not the first parents to wish their children were cured of who they were. Asking anyone who was once ashamed of who they are will tell another person as much. Like Jean, however, sometimes it's better to take the punishment of silence rather than the familial denouncements.

Warren Worthington the Third knew that all too well. His father had discovered what he was after he found his son trying to cut through the skin of his back so he could cut his wings out. A part of his father, a part for which the father himself was ashamed for possessing, wished he had let his son go through with what he was trying to do. Warren's mother had gone crazy trying to protect her baby when she had found out, had never been embarrassed of her son, but when she was killed in a car accident when Warren was twelve, he was left with a parent who flinched at the sight of him.

Warren's family was business. Always business. He was raised with it, and was heir to one of the biggest corporations of the 20th Century. It had hit the men of the family hard when Warren sprouted brilliant white wings from his back. It was a gorgeous sight, but it also made him a glorious pariah in society. Warren had only let one person from his childhood see his wings, and that child had laughed, pointed, and screamed, "Angel!"

Even as an adult, trying to make his mark in the business world just to stop his father from shutting his eye in horror every time Warren unfurled his wings, he hated them. Oh, he loved flying and always would. He didn't even hate the wings themselves. He hated what they represented. He was a successful businessman, had a wonderful life, but hated that his father hated him, even if in part. He prayed every night to real angels that his mother, who had always loved Warren unconditionally, would be waiting for him when he died.

Before she had been killed, Warren's mother, Kathryn, had contacted Charles Xavier. She had researched for hours of her free time into what had caused her son's...bodily additions. The only thing she could find was a paper, book, really, on genetic mutations by Professor Charles F. Xavier. Warren's father, obviously also named Warren but will be called Second simply for the sake of saving from confusion, found papers admitting his son to the professor's Institute.

He made sure his son got there, and saw him off for his first day of the crossroads of the rest of his life.

One person who was not seen off by his parents, and would never be seen off by his parents, was Scott Summers. Sure, Scott had grown up with loving parents, but after they were tragically killed in a plane crash which had also claimed the life of his younger brother, Alex, Scott was shoved into a Nebraskan orphanage to live out the remainder of his childhood. At twelve years old, his life change.

He was being beat up by a group of notorious teenage bullies he had just stopped from robbing a smaller group of elementary age girls when his eyes began to burn. At first, he thought it was just from the icy wind of the January air, but it felt different. Hot. Before he had a chance to think, a crimson beam of energy shot out of his eyes and into the brick wall in front of him. The bullies stopped punching and ran away, screaming obscenities at the scene before them. Scott had spent the night locked up in the county jail, so save him from the mob outside trying to kill him. That was where Charles had found him.

Charles adopted the boy himself and took him to the Institute where he helped him start a new life. Scott hated colors. He hated them, like the typical rule of human existence, because he didn't have them. Well, scratch that. He could see one color. Red.

Distinguishing between the colors, telling what their shade meant they were, became easier in time, but it was still a bit difficult given the circumstances. He was a respected member of the Institute, a role model for all children, but if self hate could be transferred to electrical power, he was pretty sure he could keep a small country powered for the rest of his natural life.

Small countries were something Ororo Munroe was used to. She came from a relatively large African country geographically, but each village was almost its own small nation. She was considered a goddess in hers from the time she was about eight. Her parents had been killed in a territorial war when she was four and she was stuck in Africa. That was, at least, until Charles found her at the age of twelve.

Her white hair had brought his attention to her instantly when he went searching for her, and easy target, and it was as beautiful and rare as the Loch Ness Monster. What was even more astounding was the way she was treated, like what was already said, like a goddess, and how that influenced how she treated others. Her arrogance at the time had been suffocating, but after she was brought to the United States and the Institute, well...that's a story for another time.

She was also one of the most respected individuals the Institute housed as an adult. She wasn't looked to as quite the role model Jean and Scott were, but the amount of trust the children placed in her made up for her slight jealousy of that. Jealousy was something she was tired of feeling, and it made it even more annoying that it was directed at a few people she was close to.

Henry, affectionately called Hank, McCoy could also understand jealousy. By birth he was shown to be different. How many children are born looking like shaved gorillas? As he grew, he began to look less like a hairless monkey and more like a bodybuilder, which he kind of was. He'd fallen in love with sports, finding a place for him to direct some of his frustrations. He had a ingenious intellect to boot.

However, at the age of thirteen, when his skin began to itch and burn and he was kept home from his northern Illinois school, his life was, like so many others, changed. His abilities of superhuman strength, agility, and durability among others began to outwardly show themselves even more. He began to look like an animal.

A blue furred, sharp toothed one that is. When his mother, Edna, had come in to check on him, she was more than a little surprised to see her awkward baby turned into what seemed to be a feral beast. His father, Norton, had contacted one of his past encounters, you guessed it, Charles Xavier, as soon as possible, hearing about his research on genetic mutations. He was also added to the guest list of the Institute.

Henry was a respected doctor with experience in anything that had to do with the word science, having a passion for it that could never be matched. It wasn't his specialty, but for obvious reasons, he was also interested in how mutations affected life. He searched for the cure society wanted for him, much to his family's discontent. So far, he had found no success.

Five completely different lives.

Five unlikely friends.

One school.

One mentor.

One story.

The story belongs to them, all of them. This is it.

* * *

**So...this is what I spent my online class hour doing. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm not exactly sure what direction this story is headed, but I wanted to get a bit of introduction out there. Just for clarification, this story will start from when they all meet and will continue from there. The reason for acknowledging their futures as adults was for two reasons.**

**1.) I wanted to acknowledge that this is the same universe I'm talking about. 2.) I wanted to show you the direction I was planning on taking this, even if it's got many literary years to go before getting there.**


	2. Chapter 2

"You'll be back before you know it, Jeannie," her mother, Elaine, attempted to assure her with what she hoped was a voice devoid of obvious disgust.

Sara, Jean's sister, shot her mother a glare she couldn't see, "Of course she will. What would ever make anyone think otherwise."

The words were spoken with the voice of a fifteen-year-old, but were created by the soul of someone much older, much more mature. Jean smiled through the mental fog. Her big sister was still protecting her, still loving her when everyone else had refused her. It made her hope.

"We're almost there," their father, John, said from the driver's seat as he made the last turn down a road covered in leaves like an autumn blanket.

Jean's stomach dropped and her heart stopped. Tears filled her brown eyes as she realized not for the first time what was happening. She was being let go, like the racoon she and Sara had caught years ago, but hadn't been allowed to keep. It wasn't safe, her mother had said, so they'd set it back into the woods. They hadn't seen the danger then, only a cute face. The irony wasn't lost on her thirteen-year-old mind.

They came to a stop at black, dangerous looking gates nearly a plaque which read "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters". Jean was no fool, but her heart hoped that this place was nicer than the last institution she'd been forced into. A cruel, cold mental facility where the employees hated their jobs almost as much as those who had no control over their severe mentality.

The gates slowly opened after a quick conversation with a speaker, revealing the full extent of the glorious estate. There was green, so much green, with the vegetation being primed to perfection. The ivy growing on the side of the monstrous mansion showed its age, while warmer touches of color showed the home it could be, if her hope played out.

As the car rolled to a stop, the doors opened and a man in a wheelchair rolled out. Jean recognized him as Charles Xavier, the man who had freed her from the prison she was in before. Sara was the first one to get out, quickly followed by Jean. Her parents, after a moment's reluctance, exited as well.

Charles smiled at Jean and her sister first, ignoring the adults to make the children feel welcomed, "Hello Jean. Who is this?"

Jean looked to her sister, "This is my older sister, Sara."

"Good morning Sara. If you would like to help your sister, you could take your bags and find your way to your room. It may take you awhile to find, but I trust you are both smart enough to figure it out, and it may give you a chance to explore as well. Maybe, find your way around."

The sisters shared a look, brown eyes meeting, and nodded, rushing back to the car to pull out her bags. They made their way inside and both nearly gasped. It was much larger than they had anticipated. The foyer itself was a museum of sunlight, showcasing the tons of sunlight through its large windows.

The door shut behind them and they could hear the dull sound of voices, their parents' and Charles'. Sara nodded toward the stairs with a smirk, "What do you say we do some real exploring? If it's not on the upper levels, no harm done. We're just...working our way down."

Jean rolled her eyes, "Stop trying to act like such a rebel Sara. We both know you wouldn't do it if we would get in trouble."

"And you would?"

"Not a chance," but the tone of her voice was off. They both knew they had different reasons for not breaking the rules.

Sara was a by-the-book girl by nature, not wanting to do anything that wasn't allowed and having to force herself out of her comfort zone often. Jean, on the other hand, was the natural rebel with a wild streak, having to force herself to be like Sara. She didn't do it because she wanted to, not at all, but rather because of the hope (she certainly had a lot of it) that her parents may begin to love her if she was more like her big sister.

No such luck, in her opinion. She was a disgrace to the family, truly better off without being part of it. At least, that's what she had been brainwashed at the institution to believe.

They made their way up the staircase, only doing so because of the permission they had received from Charles to be able to, and saw another flight of stairs to the right. Going up those, they arrived at the second floor. All of the doors in the eastern and western wings were opened, showing the bedrooms within. They were copies of each other, each having three beds to a room.

Jean noticed that one door, on the eastern side was shut. It seemed odd to her that one would be closed while all of the rest were opened, but it also made her uneasy. Tugging on Sara's arm to bring her along, Jean walked down the western hall to the rooms farthest at the end. Choosing the one of the left, she set her bags on her bed, Sara putting the ones she had brought next to them, and smiled sadly at her sister, "We better get back to Mom and Dad. You know they'll want to leave sooner rather than later."

Sara huffed in frustration, "Why can't we just stay a little longer? Why can't they see that there's nothing wrong with you?"

"Because there is something wrong with me," Jean laughed, but it was a hollow sound. She looked at her sister long and hard, "On the way here I almost fell back into that fog. I'm sure hearing voices in your head like that isn't normal. Hearing thoughts isn't supposed to happen. Neither is being able to pick things up and throw them without ever touching them. They just want me to be normal."

Even I want me to be normal. she thought.

"You are normal, Jean," Sara hugged her. "You're my sister. You're just able to do special things."

"I have to stay, Sara. They won't let me go home."

Sara looked into her sister's emerald eyes for a moment, "Okay, stay, but can we make a promise to each other? I don't get a bad feeling from Charles, so I promise nothing bad will happen to you if you promise you won't let anything bad happen to you, at least with your...powers. Learn to control them, Jeannie. Heck, you might even learn to use them. How cool would that be?"

Jean rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Really cool."

Sara laughed and walked back out of the room. Jean took one last look around, and followed after her.

When they walked out of the doors, they saw their father, his face red with obvious fury looking at his wife as Elaine wiped a tear from her cheek. Sara ran to her mom's side, "Momma? What's wrong?"

Elaine grabbed Sara's arm and began to pull her toward the car, "Come on, Sara. We're leaving."

"What?" Sara broke free and ran back to Jean's side. "You're not even going to say goodbye."

Elaine stood shocked for a moment, as if noticing the now crying Jean for the first time and stepped forward to hug her daughter, "Goodbye, Jean. I hope you learn...control."

John was a little more loving as he scooped his daughter up and twirled her around as if she was a toddler again, before setting her back down and kissing her forehead, "Good luck, Pumpkin. You stay in touch, okay?"

Jean nodded and hugged her sister, "Bye, Sara."

Sara smiled at her, showing Jean the tears she never let her see otherwise, "Bye, Jean."

And with that, the family got into the car and drove off. Charles touched Jean's hand and smiled sadly, "I'm sorry they had to leave you here, but I hope you'll come to like it. I promise it's nothing close to the last place you were in."

"May I...stay here for a moment?" Jean asked, wiping her tears off of her cheeks, staring out at the driveway as the gates closed, seeming to lock her in.

"Of course," he looked up at the sky. "Be sure to come in soon, however. It looks like a storm is coming."

She nodded vaguely as he left her on the front stairs. She didn't know how long she waited, but thunder went from distant rumbles to nearer crashes with accompanying flashes. Jean didn't move until the first large drops of rain began falling onto her flushed face.

She walked inside and closed the door behind her, sealing her fate with a man she really didn't know. When she arrived back in her room, she noticed that the "fog" wasn't as bad here. She could only really feel four big voices and a few on the outskirts of her mind, probably from the city nearby.

She began unpacking her bags, putting her clothes in the small dresser in her section of the room. It kept her mind busy, making sure they were in the same order that they were back at home. Her books went on a small bookshelf across the room. She hoped when this place filled up that the person she shared with didn't mind...sharing.

A couple of little figurines she had gathered over the years went up on her dresser next with an elaborate jewelry box and journal. She'd only just begun using the journal and it was much more helpful than anyone could ever know when sorting out her thoughts. She also hoped her roommate(s) knew what the word privacy meant.

Jean.

She squealed and jumped, looking around. She didn't see Charles. Was she hearing people talking to her now?

No, you're perfectly sane, Jean. You always have been. She heard his mental laugh. It tickled her senses lightly. Did you think you were the only one who had different abilities? Come downstairs and we'll talk about it some more.

Her hands were shaking with fear as she opened the door. Her legs felt like they could barely function as they walked her down the hall. Instead of being housed in a terrible facility with people who hated her taking care of her she was stuck in a gorgeous mansion with crazy people?

She heard him laugh again, but this time is was audible, "I assure you, I'm not as crazy as you think."

She looked down from the top of the stairs and saw him chuckling in his wheelchair with a confused boy by his side. Jean held onto the railing as she made her way slowly down the stairs.

"We were just about to eat dinner. Would you care to join us?"

She nodded and they made their way to the gigantic dining hall where a steaming meal was waiting for them. The boy took his seat near the door and Charles at the far end of the table. With nowhere safe to go, she settled for sitting directly in the middle of the table.

He smiled at them both, "Welcome to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. In case you hadn't already figured it out, which I'm sure you had, you both are just a couple of the so called "gifted youngsters". In truth, you are so much more than gifted, but we will work together in time to show you exactly who you are and what you can do. We will start in a week. Until then, I'm hoping you two can get to know each other a little more. I am not sure when others will be joining us here, but it will happen."

The boy looked curious for a moment and then smirked, "So, we're not secretly being quarantined here so we can learn the academic essentials while the government figures out what to do with us unnatural freaks?"

"Not at all," he laughed. "If that were the case, you would not be living here."

Jean shivered as she remembered exactly where they would be living. Charles looked at her and then at the food, "Hungry?"

She shared a look with the boy she didn't know, feeling for some reason as if she could trust him, and he shrugged picking up the bowl of mashed potatoes and scooping some onto his plate. They ate in silence for what felt like an eternity before Charles chuckled again, "Where are my manners? I completely forgot to introduce you two!"

The boy laughed too, "That would be nice."

"Warren, this is Jean Grey. Jean, this is Warren Worthington the Third."

Warren smiled at Jean, "Hi."

"Hi," she giggled. This was crazy. Was he actually trying to be friends with her?

He slammed his palms on the table and then pointed a finger at her, the serious look in his eyes startling her, "Quick! What's your favorite planet?"

"Uh...what?" they stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter. The rest of the meal was spent with laughter and stupid questions with even more pointless answers. One thing was certain, however. Both had gained their first ever true friend.

Charles looked on at the scene with a satisfied grin. He only hoped the rest of the people brought into his school got along as well as Warren and Jean.

* * *

Warren woke up the next morning and stretched his wings. Oh, it felt good being able to actually stretch them. He got up, went to the bathroom, and dressed for the coming day. He had been at the Institute for an entire day before Jean had gotten there.

He smiled knowing how long he and Jean had been talking last night. It was two in the morning when Charles had finally advised them to get some sleep.

He walked downstairs into the kitchens and grinned at Jean, who was eating a bowl of Honey Smacks cereal, "You know, I thought I was the only person in New York who enjoyed that."

"Not a chance, Angel," she smirked back, taking another huge mouthful of dripping cereal.

His heart clenched warmly at the nickname. They had been talking last night about things they had done in their childhoods at home. Jean had revealed herself to be quite the naughty child, but Warren truly couldn't remember doing anything too bad outside of the norm, probably from living under a spotlight his entire life. She had dubbed him Angel. He secretly loved it, though he would never let her know that.

"Whatever, Red. Give me some of those, would you?"

She smirked, holding the box out of reach, "Just try to take them from me."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. She began playfully fighting back, attempting to get away. He snatched the box before she could pull it back.

They were still laughing as he put some into a bowl and said, "Silly rabbit. Trix are for kids."

"Wrong cereal," she laughed, stretching her arm out for the box and she lunged for it again. Warren held her back with a hand to her shoulder, but he felt the box tug out of his hand and it shot into her.

She squealed and dropped the box, spilling pieces of puffed wheat all over the floor. He gaped at her for a moment while she stared at the floor then back to him. With tearing emerald eyes, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

She then ran out of the room, leaving a shell shocked Warren surrounded by sweetened breakfast. Charles wheeled in and took a look around the room, "What happened?"

"I don't know! One minute we're messing around over cereal, and the next minute the box is flying out of my hand and into Jean's. Then she freaks and runs out of here after apologizing to me."

"Oh, no," he sighed. "Jean has a lot of trouble controlling her powers. It usually just affects her telepathy like this, but I guess this time it decided to attack her telekinesis."

Warren's blue eyes widened, "What are you saying? That Jean can read my mind? That she could throw me across the room with a thought?"

The older man affixed him with a sharp gaze, "She could, but she won't. Not only does she not have enough control to do it on command, but she wouldn't when she could. I've known her family for a long time and I know how they raised her. Besides that, her personal sense of honor and moral level is just as high as yours, perhaps more."

"I'm sorry, Professor," he responded, ashamed that he would think something so terrible about his new friend.

His eyes softened, "Just remember your own mutation before you speak out, Warren. Yours may not be as dangerous, but it is certainly more noticeable."

* * *

Six days later, the two friends were chattering away as Charles wheeled into the foyer, "Are you two ready to begin?"

They shared a look, "Begin what, exactly."

"Training."

After a few close calls with floating vases and whispering voices, Jean was certainly ready to learn. Warren, however, blushed a bright red as he remembered that Jean would have to see his deformity. He didn't know if he was quite ready for that yet.

"Perfect! If you will follow me, I will lead you to what you will know later as being a classroom as much as the one you will use for algebra and history."

Together, Warren and Jean followed behind the slow moving man. They walked into an elevator, which before today they hadn't known was there, and it opened into a chrome, black, and white colored hallway. It was brilliant, each surface polished to shining perfection. A gasp caught in Jean's throat as he led them down the hall. How much fortune did this man have?

Charles laughed and spoke within her head, More than I know what to do with.

They walked into a room off to the right side. It was large and composed of many metal slabs. The large doors closed behind them automatically, and Charles turned to face his first students, "This is what I like to call the Danger Room. Here, you will be trained in how to use your powers physically, as if you were in a fight. Here, sit."

He pressed a button on his chair and typed a few numbers into a keypad and a few desks popped up, as if this really was a classroom. He then smiled as they tentatively sat and began to speak again, "Like I said, this is the Danger Room. Here, I can create holographic images of locations, items, and even people who would feel, look, smell, sound, and might even taste like the real deal."

Jean giggled as Warren snorted. Both were still confused so Jean raised her hand in appropriate classroom conduct making Charles grin wider, "Professor? Isn't there a possibility of us getting hurt then?"

"Isn't there a possibility of you always getting hurt, when you walk down the stairs or even tie your shoes?" he mused. "Yes, I regret to inform you that you will not be invulnerable, but that is also part of the training. Learning how to move in a fight so that you don't get hurt is important. You will not always be invulnerable, so why be so when training?"

She had another question, "Couldn't my powers...harm this...thing?"

"I'm sure you could if you tried, but my goal here is to teach you control so that you can learn to pinpoint what you may want to move or stop, if you understand what I mean by that. You will also be working with me personally to control your telepathy, though you would not have to be in here to do so. Warren, I apologize, but short of revealing yourself to the world, you will be confined to use your wings within here or on the grounds during training unless you feel you are ready to be known," he informed the young man.

"Wings?" Jean asked, her eyes bright with excitement. "Is that why you are always wearing that trench coat around me?"

His face was crimson, "Yes."

"May I see?"

Warren looked at Charles whose blue eyes saddened slightly, "She'll see them eventually. You're training with her. I trust that you, Jean, won't mock him or anything."

She looked disgusted, "Of course not!"

"Perfect! Warren, if you don't mind..."

He stood with a shaky sigh and slowly took off his coat with his front to her, so she could barely see the tops of his wings peeking from over his shoulders. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't see her reaction and spread them out to their full sixteen foot wingspan. When he didn't hear any screaming, he opened his cobalt eyes.

Jean was beaming at him like a proud mother as she saw his wings for the first time. How could she be disgusted? They were gorgeous. A single white feather fell in front of her to land on the table of her desk and she picked it up, holding it up to the light. She decided then that she would keep it, and hoped that wasn't creepy at all. It was just for memory's sake.

When he realized she wasn't going to hate him, he tucked his wings back to his body and sat down again, a satisfied visage on his face. Charles then went on to explain that they would wake up and work for an hour in the Danger Room every morning from 6:30-7:30 a.m. (give or take, depending on the day, he winked) and then get to class by 8:30. Then they would come back for either more Danger Room training, private power tutoring, or more classroom tutoring.

"Since I only have you two as students, the scheduling won't need to be as firm right now, but I do expect you to abide by the times I do set down. It will become more solid once more mutants join the school. Until then, you both can be my guinea pigs and we'll figure it out from there. Any questions?"

They shook their heads, a little dazed from all of the information they had just absorbed.

"Jean, Warren, welcome to the X-men."

**YAY! This is a story I have been planning for a long time and I'm super excited to finally get it out there. I hope you've enjoyed everything so far. Please let me know what you think in a review and the next chapter will come...eventually (when I have time).**


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